Showbiz, A Novel (27 page)

             
Just then a buzzer rang, indicating that there was someone at the building’s front door for her.

             
“Hang on a sec,” Lawrence said, jumping to his feet.

             
Before Scarlett knew what was happening, Lawrence had grabbed her keys off the counter and flown out the door. He returned minutes later with two bags of incredibly good-smelling Thai food. Apparently he had called for take-out while she was in the shower.

             
“Lunch is served,” he said, unloading the bags. He’d gotten enough for an army.

             
“I’m not hungry,” she grumbled as he continued to set out more cartons of yummy-smelling food. “My gosh, do you think I eat that much?” she said, slightly joking, slightly offended at the volume of food.

             
“Let’s just say we may have reinforcements on the way,” he said.

             
“I don’t want to see anyone!” She put the pillow back over her head.

             
“I know, Gorgeous, but the Jeremys were worried about you, too. When I called to confirm that you were, in fact, alive, I couldn’t say no when they begged to come over. You know they always cheer you up.”

             
“Fine,” she said, giving in. “You don’t seem to listen to me, anyway.”

             
“Now you’re talking,” he said with a grin. “Eat! That’s an order.”

             
Though she could still feel a dull ache in her stomach, the Thai food was calling to her and she gave in.

             
“You’re getting some color back, at least,” Lawrence said encouragingly, filling his own plate with pad Thai and green curry. “This is good. I wonder if they’d deliver to my place.”

             
They continued eating. Lawrence did most of the talking while she picked at her food. They left the rest of it out for the Jeremys’ imminent arrival. Lawrence put up the Murphy bed, with instructions from Scarlett, since he’d never operated one before in his life, while she dried her hair. She didn’t bother to get dressed. The satin robe was surprisingly comfortable. I only look a little like a drag queen in it, she thought.

             
Lawrence made her a cup of chamomile tea. After the Jeremys arrived and devoured the last of the Thai food, the four of them gathered around her tiny apartment. Scarlett was pleased to see that four people could fit in her minuscule apartment at the same time. From the bed, the chair, and the floor, they looked at Scarlett expectantly.

             
“This isn’t like you, Scarlett. What happened?” Jersey Jeremy asked.

             
“What can we do?” Buff Jeremy said.

             
“It’s really bad, guys,” she said, looking at all three of them. “And I don’t even know where to start. I’m worried that it’s somehow my fault.”

             
“We’ll be fine, honey,” Buff Jeremy said. “Just tell us what’s on your mind.”

             
She felt tears coming to her eyes already but took a deep breath and charged on. “Well, you know how Reilly’s up this week as a finalist for the
Banner
critic’s job.” They all nodded. “In a nutshell, the last critic, Kanter, had apparently been paid off by Margolies for decades to write good reviews for his shows.” Three pairs of eyes widened. “Now Margolies is blackmailing Reilly into doing the same thing. Only to prove that he is the ‘right guy for the job,’ they’re making him write a scathing review of our show this week.”

             
They all stared at her in shocked silence. Clearly, it was far from what they were expecting.

             
“Well, of course he’s not going to...right?” Jersey Jeremy said, trailing off as he realized that it was a silly question, given Scarlett’s state.

             
“I can’t believe I ever trusted him,” she said sullenly.

             
“But he seemed like such a good guy. And he was clearly crazy about you. It just doesn’t make sense,” Buff Jeremy said.

             
“I guess his career came first. Let’s just say we broke up.” She stared at them in stony silence.

             
Lawrence was the first to recover. “I’m so sorry, Scarlett.”

             
The Jeremys tried to echo his condolences, but Scarlett could tell that her announcement about
Swan Song
had knocked the wind out of them.

             
“I just don’t understand why Reilly would do that you. To us,” Buff Jeremy said, when he could speak again.

             
“He claimed he wasn’t going to do it, but Margolies has threatened to kill his career if he doesn’t go through with it. It’s complicated,” Scarlett said.

             
“I get that, but this would be really low. I mean, really, really low.”

             
“And why would Margolies want to kill our show?” Jersey Jeremy asked.

             
“To punish me, I guess. I thought being fired was enough, but apparently not,” Scarlett said.

             
“Actually,” Lawrence said, “there may be more to it than that. If you’ve read the editorials, there’s talk that if
Swan Song
came on to Broadway during this Tony Award season, we would actually have a shot at beating out
Olympus
. The Tony voters may shun Margolies’ show for being too overblown, not to mention hard for the touring market.”

             
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Scarlett said, relieved, in a way, that maybe it wasn’t entirely about her. “But we don’t even know if we’re going to Broadway. Now, obviously, with the upcoming bad review, we have no chance.”

             
“Scarlett, you’re being modest,” Jersey Jeremy said. “Thanks to you, we were perfectly set up for Broadway. The review would have been the lynch pin, but you positioned us perfectly. Lawrence’s money didn’t hurt, either.” He nodded to Lawrence.

             
“Well, it’s all over now,” Scarlett said miserably.

             
Jersey Jeremy slid out of the chair to join Buff Jeremy on the floor. They wrapped their arms around each other. It was small comfort, after such devastating news.

             
“I don’t know about you all, but I’m not willing to throw in the towel, just like that,” Lawrence said.

             
“I love your enthusiasm,” Scarlett said, “but I’ve wracked my brain and can’t think of any way around it.”

             
“Short of taking out Reilly…” Buff Jeremy said.

             
“Not going to happen,” Scarlett said. “I’ll admit I hate his guts right now, but he got himself in a bad situation. And, anyway, he’ll get what’s coming to him, if he has to spend the rest of his career wrapped around Margolies’ little finger.”

             
Jersey Jeremy shuddered. “Good point. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

             
“Listen up,” Lawrence cut in. “I don’t think Reilly’s our problem. The real problem—and I know this won’t come as a huge shock to you all—is Margolies.”

             
“But what can we do about him? He ‘
is
Broadway,’” Jersey Jeremy said, making air quotes in mock tribute to Margolies’ constant self-aggrandizing claim.

             
“Actually, he’s killing Broadway—or at least the Broadway that we love,” Lawrence said. “When word got out that I had pulled my
Olympus
money, I started getting hit up by all the other major producers. I guess they thought I was available for fleecing.” He smiled. “Anyway, those guys had some pretty interesting things to say about what’s
really
going on.”

             
“And you’re only telling us now?” Jersey Jeremy asked.

             
“This all just happened,” Lawrence said.

             
“Let him finish,” Buff Jeremy said impatiently.

             
“Apparently, Margolies has done stuff like this before. When Scarlett mentioned that Margolies was paying off Kanter, it all started to make sense. I think he may also have been finding creative ways to keep certain other shows off of Broadway, too.”

             
“You mean to keep his competition down?”

             
“Sort of, but there’s more to it than that.”

             
Scarlett sat up. That was interesting.

             
Lawrence explained, “Basically, Margolies’ figured out that his big-budget, ultra-commercial shows—you know, some of those heavy handed movie musicals and spectacle shows that he’s been doing—can command a faster increase in ticket pricing than your normal Broadway show. Tourists have heard of the titles, so they basically come pre-branded. And he has good enough street cred to lock movie stars into the lead roles.” He paused to make sure they were following him.

             
“Now that ticket prices are no longer fixed but can, instead, vary widely based on demand, like airline tickets, Margolies has free rein to drive his ticket prices through the roof. When he has a hit, of course.”

             
“Well, I hate to say it, but that just sounds like good business,” Jersey Jeremy said.

             
“Except that it sucks up all the money that tourists used to spend on multiple shows. Now, more often than not, they can only afford to go to one. And if they only pick one, of course their first choice will be a Margolies hit since they want to see stars, stunts, and spectacle.”

             
“Well, you could say they get what they pay for,” Scarlett said.

             
“Yes, but it pressures all the other major producers to try to match his exorbitant production values at huge expense and in turn they have to raise their ticket prices too. In fact, each hit show that takes ticket prices to new heights sets the bar for the rest of the shows.”

             
“I see where this is going,” Scarlett said. “As Margolies systematically drives up costs and ticket prices, it gets harder and harder for the smaller and more obscure new shows and original musicals to survive. The shows that used to make it on merit alone…you know, great shows like
Next to Normal
or
The Drowsy Chaperone
...
can’t stay solvent.”

             
“This is blowing my mind,” Jersey Jeremy said, shaking his head. “I knew the guy had power but this is crazy!”

             
Scarlett looked at them all in disbelief. “So basically, the fact that Broadway is becoming a show-tune theme park is Margolies’ fault and for the past four years I was helping him do it. I feel queasy.”

             
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Scarlett,” Lawrence said, gently. “A lot of people outside the theater world would think he was a genius. He is a genius. Broadway is big business and money will always trump art in the end. We just happen to want to keep the art part.”

             
Buff Jeremy cut in. “So, you’re saying that all those original musicals that should have come to Broadway but disappeared were killed on purpose so the schlock from Margolies’ office   — no offense Scarlett — could take over Broadway?”

             
“It certainly explains a lot.” Scarlett said. “I can finally understand why Margolies would tackle something as enormous as
Olympus
. He’s simply raising the bar again.”

             
  “God, this is depressing,” Jersey Jeremy said.

             
“So what can we do?” Buff Jeremy asked the obvious question. “Confront Margolies and tell him to cut it out?”

             
“Obviously talking to Margolies isn’t going to do it. Between his goons and his influence, he’d squash us like flies,” Lawrence replied.

             
“But what’s the alternative?” Scarlett said. “Seriously, Lawrence, I’ve got nothing. I’m out of ideas.”

             
“As it happens, I do have the beginnings of an idea,” Lawrence said looking at each of them with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “But it will only work if you’re all in...”

Scene 42

             
Reilly felt like a wreck. The emotional rollercoaster he’d been on for days since Scarlett stormed off, and his subsequent talk with has Candace, had left him feeling wrung out.

             
One moment he was elated that he was so close to accomplishing his goal, then in the next second, he panicked that Candace would renege on their plan, leaving him exposed to career annihilation. They hadn’t had any more contact since he’d left her townhouse. He’d tried calling a few times, to no avail. He just had to trust her, which was no easy feat. Calls to Scarlett had been equally fruitless.